Answering Machine
by Irrelevancy
Summary: Fran decides the Varia need an answering machine. Chaos, like always, ensues. BelFran, heavily implied XS. Rated T for lime scene. Birthday fic for prince da ripper


**A/N: IT IS MY BELOVED DAUGHTER'S BIRTHDAY~~!**

**Hope you had a wonderful day, and here's your b-day present to wrap things up~**

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"We need an answering machine," Fran announced one day at dinner. His droning voice managed to get Bel to stop viciously stabbing his steak, Lussuria to stop giggling about the new lingerie he bought, Levi to stop muttering stalker-like behind a certain swordsman, Squalo to stop mid-yell, and Xanxus to loosen his hold on his second-in-command's head long enough for said second-in-command to look up. The sudden silence of the usual "Loud as All Fuck" family (they ranked number one, according one Fuuta) didn't seem to faze the illusionist, and Fran took another forkful of his fettuccine alfredo before continuing in the same manner.

"Nobody picks up the phone, and we never know who calls."

"Ushishishi~ That's pretty stupid." Bel laughed like it was. "Why should the Prince care about who calls~? If they want to talk to royalty, they should come meet me face to face. Provided that I grant them permission, of course, shishi..."

"Fran-chan's got a point!" Lussuria exclaimed, dropping his fork daintily into his bowl of garden salad. "What if it's the Family calling for a mission? We don't know who calls us!"

"Boss! The complain mail we've received about missed missions have been increasing since eight years ago!" Levi dutifully reported, standing up and saluting, shaking the whole table and, subsequently, Squalo's head.

"Voooiiii! The Varia weren't even _taking_ missions eight years ago!" the swordsman snarled, veins popping from his neck as he strained to lift his head. Xanxus, however, just shoved it back down with a satisfying bang as he stood.

"Fine," the boss said, completely ignored the seven-course meal placed in front of him, and stood, dragging Squalo up with him by the hair ("VOOOIII! YOU FUCKIN- THAT FUCKIN'- HURTS, BASTARD!"). "Trash. Go buy a fucking answering machine."

Another epic pause ensued, almost as grand as the one that followed Fran's announcement (Fran stabbed the last piece of ribbon-shaped pasta with his fork and threw it down with a pouty clang), which was, of course, broken by-

"VOOOOOOOOIIIIIII! WHAT THE FUCK IS FUCKING WRONG WITH YOU? YOU WANT ME TO GO OUT AND BUY A FUCKING ANSWERING MACHINE RIGHT _NOW_?"

Xanxus narrowed his eyes, and dragged his second-in-command closer. "You got a problem with that, trash?"

A normal person wouldn't react. A smart person would shake his head. Of course then, Squalo, who is neither normal or particularly smart regarding his own personal safety (let it be said again, the man swore his life to _Xanxus_), does neither.

"OF COURSE I HAVE A FUCKING PROBLEM, YOU STUPID FUCKTARD!" Further more, he had the _gall_ to struggle against Xanxus, which, Bel guesses, is the ultimate quality that makes Squalo the perfect assassin, strategy captain, and rain guardian - the fact that he was absolutely _retarded_ about fatality... "AND FUCKING LET GO OF MY HAIR, DAMMIT!"

So Xanxus, just as emotionally retarded (just regarding another aspect called "showing affection"), _affectionately_ throws Squalo half way across the building, _affectionately_ walk over, and _affectionately_ threw the swordsman over his shoulder, no doubt bringing him to a more private space to "convince" him to do this deed.

Half an hour later, Squalo kicks down the door to Varia HQ from the outside, and throws a heavy cardboard box at Fran's head. It bounced off the hat, and Bel caught it with his foot.

"Attach that to the goddamn phone," Squalo ordered, swinging his sword precariously close to said electric home appliance. "And get it set up, or whatever the fuck not."

He then marched up the stairs, back to Xanxus's room, and was never seen again.

...Well, Bel saw him three days later, limping towards a mission, but whatever. The swordsman would disappear again sooner or later, and as long as it kept the Boss content and temper just below "murderous" zone, the Prince couldn't care less.

So all his focus naturally gravitated to the fun new toy he and Fran were in charge of.

It was a simple thing - a bundle of metal plates and wiring systems stuffed into a sleek shell of black and chrome. This little machine was going to solve all their problems (despite the facade, the Varia actually functioned to their purpose quite well), was it? It was hard to believe.

Then again, the Varia was filled with strange people. Who's to say the strangeness can't be directed onto their _stuff_?

When Bel reached for it, Fran didn't respond, just allowed the Prince his time to juggle the thing around until he was bored, and threw it back.

"I'll take care of it," Fran quickly promised, holding it close. "You can go ahead and rest. You must be tired, especially after that mission, huh, senpai?"

Bel wouldn't be the ace of the Varia had he been liable to fall for such obvious ploys.

_Thunk thunk thunk_. The Prince twirled another knife around as he prowled closer to Fran, forcing the illusionist back until he has the froggy successfully trapped against a wall.

"What are you planning, stupid froggy~?"

"Nothing, you fake prince, nothing at all," Fran answered immediately. He didn't have to cringe - his hat did it for him, as the fabric quivered under the next four knives.

"Shishi, you can't lie to me..." Bel continued to press forward, until his royal-golden hair was pressed flush against the frog hat. Fran almost gulped. _Almost_. "I am the Prince, after all..."

"There's no way I would be planning something, now is there?" the illusionist tried to reason. "What could I possibly be planning? What do you think I'm planning?"

Fran wasn't pressured, or babbling a bit. Not at all.

"The Prince knows everything," Bel whispered with all the confidence and finale in the world. He had the kind of conviction only the youngest of children would have, Fran noticed. The prince may take a bloodbath every day (literal in all the senses of the world - there was a reason why Squalo gave Bel a golden bathtub, after all), but he may still be the most innocent in the family. He had no darkness looming behind him, except for maybe a black cloud of bloodlust, unlike Levi (not that Fran cared about the lightning perverted old man), Lussuria (...ew), or Xanxus (no comment on the illusionist's part).

...Come to think of it, the long-haired commander certainly... did _not_ bear an aura of heaviness around him, but he most certainly wasn't innocent in any way. Squalo's seen and done things most mortals, most _Varia_ have never done (like cutting his blasted hand off), yet there was no pressure in associating with him (except for, maybe, being killed by that sword attached to his hand twenty-four seven). Fran, for one, loved being with Squalo, purely for the sake of antagonizing him about Boss. He has the most amusing reactions when their talks shift to Xanxus, like that time, when Fran mentioned-

"Stop thinking, Froggy."

Fran felt a finger-shaped pressure on his chin, lifting his head up, and his lips being captured in none-too-gentle, but not-yet-fatal teeth, as Bel took to biting and nibbling at the illusionist's mouth. When the oral ministrations turned into a full-blown kiss (teeth aside, the prince had a hell of a tongue), Fran could feel himself stepping forward and pressing against the familiar chilling warmth of Prince the Ripper, and sighed inaudibly into Bel's mouth. A perfect hand with perfect fingers fiddled at his collar, and Fran leaned back more to allow the prince's talented mouth leeway downwards, onto his neck, into his uniform, onto his chest...

Bel pulled back, and yanked Fran to his chest, licking the illusionist on the lips once.

"What were you going to leave as the message for the answering machine?"

Fran's eyes widened when Bel's tongue started flicking at the corners of his mouth again. "...You knew?"

"The Prince knows everything," Bel gleefully breathed, turning them around so Fran was arching back onto the nearest tabletop. "Now... Answer my question, Froggy..."

One pale hand traced Fran's jugular as its twin swiftly unbuckled the rest of the uniform. Fran felt a shiver run through him as his skin crawled with arousal, and knew he had to answer the prince. Just... the touches, the licks, so... _magical_.

"What were you going to leave as the answering message?"

Fran never noticed the red recording light blinking on the answering machine.

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Hayato glared bloody murder at the number in his hand. It was for the Tenth, he kept on telling himself. It was for the Tenth.

The Storm Guardian squeezed his eyes shut, and dialed the Varia HQ's number.

The phone rang for an obscenely long amount of time. Hayato was about to slam the phone back down and tell the Tenth nobody was home (he hoped they all went off and died, or something), when he heard a click on the other side.

"OI! IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU-"

"You've- you've reached the V-Varia... headquarters. Um, no- aah... Nobody is ava-av-available right now... Ple-please call bac- AAH! Bel! I-

_Shush. Continue, Froggy, shishishi..._

C-Call... back...

_What was that? I couldn't hear..._

CALLBACKLATER! Oh, fuck... Bel, I- ah- AH!

_Ushishi... There's a good Froggy..._"

"Mornin', Gokudera! Just got back from baseball practice! I heard Tsuna asked you to call Squa- Hey, Goku- Gokudera Why are you so red?"

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**A/N: ...Ayayae...**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEL! I LOVE YOOOUUUUU! :)**

**Reviews would be wonderful, and solve my fanfic-deficit. Probably.**


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